


Various Drabbles from Queerditch Pub

by limmenel (elevenoclock)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-01
Updated: 2004-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-18 01:17:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elevenoclock/pseuds/limmenel
Summary: Various drabbles from the writing community Queerditch Pub circa 2004





	Various Drabbles from Queerditch Pub

**Author's Note:**

> Each drabble will have the pairing preceding it. No warnings or tags will be used.

**Pansy/Hermione**

The library was empty except for two people. Hermione, curled up on one of the plush chairs, balanced a book on her knees and tried her hardest not to pay attention to the room’s other occupant. Finally, unable to concentrate on the Potions text before her that she was studying from, she glanced up. Pansy Parkinson, Slytherin and, therefore, her automatic enemy, was studying her own Potions notes with a fervor that Hermione has only known herself to have. Curious now, as she had never known Pansy to be one for studying, Hermione gave up on studying her book and turned her attention to the Slytherin.

“Stop staring, Granger, it’s impolite,” Pansy said suddenly, not bothering to look up from her reading. “If you want to say something, say it.”

Hermione blinked, then said, “It’s just that… I mean… I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was staring.” Blushing furiously, she glanced back down at her text and willed herself to read the words she already knew.

“You didn’t expect me to be here, studying,” Pansy finished the other girl’s thoughts, looking up.

“Well…”

“It’s fine,” came the interruption. “I realize that I should be out watching the Game, like the rest of the school.”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Why aren’t you?”

Pansy put her book down, marking her place with a manicured fingernail. “Why aren’t you, Granger? Aren’t your boyfriends up there, playing?”

Instead of replying, Hermione blushed again. “They’re not… we’re not together. I’m…”

“You’re what?”

Still blushing, Hermione looked away. “They’re not my type.” She said after a moment.

“And what is your type?”

A minute passed, than two. Finally, Hermione answered. “People who would rather study then be at a Quidditch match,” she stated, then, still blushing, gathered up her books and fled the room.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

**Remus/Sirius**

The first full moon of the year found Sirius leaning against the side of the Shrieking Shack, listening as the growls and noises within grew louder and louder as the moon rose higher in the sky. Snape had been called to Voldemort only a few nights before, and had not returned in time to brew the Wolfsbane Potion. So Sirius found himself watching the silver moon drift upwards, and tried to block out the feral sounds behind him.

He knew he could go in, transform into his animagus form and help his best friend get through the night. He should, too, he knew. He knew how painful it was to be alone.

After another few moments, the sounds quieted down slightly. Remus has moved to another part of the Shack, most likely, and, at least for a few minutes, Sirius was alone with his thoughts.

Another glance up showed it to be a clear night, not a cloud in the sky. The stars, though, seemed duller than usual. Sadder. Like they were weeping for the ones beneath them.

As the moon reached its zenith and passed it, Sirius found himself approaching the Whomping Willow. Moments later, he was beneath the tree and moving down the long tunnel to where Remus waited for him.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Harry/Severus

Four days ago, Severus Snape had stiffened during class, then, with a flare of his cloak, vanished into his office and slammed the door. He hadn’t been seen since then, and Harry Potter was starting to get worried. Not that he would admit it to anyone, of course not. Nor, if anyone had asked him, would he say that the Potions Professor had been gone for exactly four days, six hours, three minutes and… a glance at his watch, under the table of the Great Hall, thirteen seconds. Because, of course, he wasn’t counting.

Dumbledore had made an announcement at dinner four days ago that a substitute would be covering the Potions classes indefinitely, much to the delight of most of the school. Only Harry had stayed silent as the rest of his housemates cheered and happily discussed how much better Potions would be now that “the greasy git was gone”.

But Harry missed Snape, however much he wanted to deny it. Just as he would deny waking up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, wet beneath his sheets, a vision of a dark haired man fading from his dreams. On nights like those, he tried his best to fall back to sleep with images of Ginny, Fleur, Hermione, someone else in his mind, and always failed.

Because every time he closed his eyes to get back to sleep, he would see Severus Snape there, in the dark behind his eyes. And now, with the ex-Death Eater away doing who-knows-what, spying for Dumbledore, preparing for the Final Battle that Harry knew would come at the end of that year, and, always, risking his life.

Sitting at the table, pushing his dinner around his plate with a fork, Harry closed his eyes and hoped.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

**Remus/Bill**

Grimmauld Place wasn’t empty when Remus arrived, exhausted from the full moon. That in itself was a surprise; Albus had sent everyone off on missions, so no one should be there, and Sirius… Remus shuddered, shook his head, forced himself to move past that thought. It had been a year, he was over it. At least, he told himself he was.

The second surprise came when he entered the kitchen. Dancing around to a song that was playing (loudly) from the radio on the counter, wearing nothing more than a pair of frayed and worn sleeping pants, was Bill Weasely. Remus watched, torn between amusement and surprise, as the red-head cracked a couple of eggs open and started whipping them together, all the while shaking his hips and singing along to some rock song that Remus didn’t recognize. He turned to grab a frying pan from the stove, then froze, mid-movement, as he saw Remus in the doorway.

“Er… Remus, hi.” Bill still hadn’t moved, one arm out as though about to grab the pan, the other holding the eggs.

“Bill,” Remus nodded. “I’ll leave you to finish… cooking.” He glanced at the other man, studiously avoiding glancing at the bare chest, and turned away to go to his room and change.

Behind him, he could hear the radio as the song ended, and another one started. And he could feel Bill staring at him, still not moving, as he walked up the stairs.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

**Harry/Ginny/Draco - Silver and Gold**

Harry likes to watch, sometimes. It's an arousing sight, seeing his two lovers together. They're like opposites drawn together, and it's beautiful. Red and pale blond, emotional and emotionless, tan and pale, Gryffindor and Slytherin, gold and silver. He doesn't like marring such perfection with his own darkness, marring it's beauty, so he watches, sits at the head of the bed and watches as Weasely and Malfoy come together. Even in sex, it's like a war, both fighting for every kiss, every touch, for dominance.

When they leave the bedroom and return to the school, two under an invisibility cloak as they make their way to their tower, Harry wonders why silver and gold are never mixed, why everyone else tries to keep them seperate, as though fusing the two would destroy their perfection.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

**Remus/James - Dirty and Clean**

Remus is constantly clean. It's almost obsessive, the way Remus showers every morning and some evenings, the way he always smells of school soap and shampoo, the way he knew Cleaning Charms before he knew any others.

James feels it's his job- nay, his duty, as both friend and Head Boy, to ruin Remus' pristine image. He likes to see Remus blend in with the other boys, dirty after a long Saturday of running around Hogsmede or playing informal Quidditch, clothes torn and wearing thin in places from the repeated spells to fix them.

Of course, there are other ways to dirty Remus up. There are nights in James' private Head Boy room, Silence Charms quickly thrown on all four walls and ceiling and floor. There, dirty takes on a whole new meaning; sweat and saliva and cum mix together until James is grinning and Remus is too exhausted to complain.

Of course, the showers the next morning, before the other boys wake up, aren't too bad either.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

**Severus/Draco - Blow**

Leaning against a wall in the dungeons, cold stone pressing against heated flesh, but neither sensation being felt over the tidal wave of burning wetness surrounding him. A hand tangles in silky hair, the blond strands nearly white even against the pale skin of fingers.

Severus lets his head fall back, ignores the dull thud has it hits the stone behind him, closes his eyes as fingers reach up to fondle his balls, as a tongue traces the vein on the underside of his cock. He comes soon after, brought to climax by a mouth more talented then any sixteen-year-old's should be.

Detention for a Slytherin, Tuesday night at 8. For blowing something up in class. The words are scribbled onto his calendar, a reminder.

Severus wonders if Mr Malfoy's grades will soon begin dropping in Potions.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

**Draco/Blaise: writing in a journal**

"Why do you always do that?"

Draco looked up at the voice, eyebrow raised in question. "Do what?"

Blaise let himself fall to the bed next to his dormmate, ignoring the glare sent in his direction. "That," he said, waving his hand in the direction of Draco's lap. Write in your journal. You're addicting to that thing."

"I am not!" Draco managed to sound affronted without taking his eyes off of the leather-bound book. "I just enjoy writing in it, that's all. There's nothing wrong with that."

"And if it suddenly... vanished, for a day or two?"

A nonchallant shrug. "I can go a day without using my journal, you know. It's not like it's an obsession." Draco carefully dipped his quill into the inkpot on his nightstand and continued to write.

Blaise grinned, even though he knew Draco wouldn't see it. "Good," he said. "You won't mind if I do this, then." Before the blond could react, the journal had been snatched, a locking charm applied on it, and tossed aside.

"Oi, what the bloody hell is wrong with you, mate?!" Draco looked almost desperate for a minute. "You're mad. Mad as a bloody cow. Give me my journal back!"

The grin became a laugh as Blaise pinned Draco down. "Nope. You'll have to earn it back, first."

Neither left the room for several hours.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

**Remus/Regulus: chalk and a scarf**

His fingers are white, chalk pressed into the grooves of fingertips so deeply that it seems unlikely ever to come out. He's done with detention for the night, and he'll be glad if he never sees another chalk board ever again. I will not physically attack people. Four hundred times. No magic.

Regulus sighs, angry, and tries to get the chalk dust off of his skin. He only succeeds in smearing it down the black of his robes and the green and silver of his scarf, turning them white, making him more furious. He's too wrapped up in his anger to notice the red and gold before him until it's almost too late and he's face to face with

"Lupin."

Remus doesn't move, doesn't take a step back as most would when their space is invaded, especially by a Slytherin. "I wanted to apologize."

For some reason, this makes Regulus more angry than the chalk stains did, and he bites out his response, "I don't need your apologies, Lupin," and continues on his way down to the dungeons.

He's stopped a split second later by a hand on his harm, and resists the urge to shake it off. Instead, he sighs harshly and turns, black eyes glaring into golden brown.

"I am sorry, Regulus. I am. You have to believe that," Lupin pleads, not letting go of the younger boy's arm, afraid that he'll be gone if he does. "I'll tell him to stop, tell him to leave you alone, and-

"And nothing, Lupin. I can handle my own brother. Go back to him and tell him to leave me the fuck alone or he will be sorry, because next time I won't be satisfied with merely throwing punches." He turns again, yanks his arm free, and continues down the hall. He pauses at the turn to the dungeons. "And don't feel the need to apologize for him. Just because you've fucked two Blacks doesn't make you our emissary, yeah?"

And then he's gone, leaving Remus alone to walk back to Gryffindor Tower alone.

\---------------------------------------------------------------


End file.
